The only reason I visited Nagasaki is because my father, daddy as I used to call him, was in Nagasaki half a year after the bomb. He must have been 22 at the time.
My father, who circled the world as a radio operator in the British Royal Navy during WWII, was in Hong Kong and was sent with his friends to see the devastation.
They took just a few pictures.
My father is on the bottom left.
By coincidence, the one on the left of the top row was a cousin of my mother (long before my parents met).
And here what it looks like today.
My father is on the bottom left.
By coincidence, the one on the left of the top row was a cousin of my mother (long before my parents met).
I miss my daddy.
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